Whirlwind
by Lioness Black
Summary: [Complete] When Cary Retlin returns to Stoneybrook after two years, changed and darker than ever, Kristy finds herself pulled into his world.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Whirlwind   
Author: Lioness Black   
Rating: R   
Disclaimer: Not mine, just good fun.  
Summary: When Cary returns to Stoneybrook after two years, changed and darker than ever, Kristy finds herself pulled into his world. 

Chapter One

I looked over my shopping cart and compared it to the list in my hand. Folders, notebooks, pencils, pens, highlighters, day planner, looseleaf paper in wide ruled and college. Piled in another corner were two new pairs of jeans, three new sweaters, new sneakers, two new t-shirts, and a new jacket.

Suddenly, the two hundred dollars in my pocket seemed small. Not nearly as stretchable as when Mom had given it to me this morning. I had an extra twenty bucks, so I figured I had a bumper. Plus, did I really need the t-shirt with the Far Side comic on it? No, but it was funny. I could put that one back if it was that bad.

When Stoneybrook got the WalMart, it was like the circus was in town every single day. No one knew what to do except go and ooh and ahh over the fact you could get shampoo, DVDs, and underwear all at the same store. And now it made for great one-stop shopping for my school supplies.

I got up to the register and waited for, what seemed like ages, for my total to come up. Finally! A hundred and eighty-eight forty-six. I forked over the two hundred and it was gone nearly as quickly as it was there. I got my change and pushed my cart out to my car.

I'm Kristy Thomas, sixteen years old and getting ready for my junior year at Stoneybrook High School (or SHS as we all refer to it).

I got my driver license right after my sixteenth birthday. It was lucky since my mom had made both of my older brothers wait until they were seventeen. I guess I'm just more trustworthy. Or at least I hadn't ever given Mom a reason to doubt me. She'd left her children in my care more times than I can count.

My car is a very used red pick-up truck that I bought for seven hundred dollars. I'd been saving for almost a year when I got her before my birthday. I had to learn to drive stick-shift, but it's been totally worth it.

I piled my new supplies into the passenger seat, and sat down in front of the wheel. I was just about the start the car when my cell phone rang. Just in time. I NEVER answer my phone while I'm driving. I looked at the phone. It was Mary Anne Spier, my best friend.

"Hey, Mary Anne."

"I'm still not used to that!" she said. "I don't know how I like you knowing it's me before you answer."

"Well, get used to it," I said, smiling. Mary Anne has been my best friend since before either of us can remember. She grew up next door to me on Bradford Court, but now neither of us live there.

I live in the ritzy, upperclass neighborhood across town. When I was thirteen my mom married Watson Brewer, who just happened to be a real life millionaire. Since he lived in a mansion, and we lived in a house that was too small for us (My mom, my three brothers, and myself), it just made sense for us to move in there. I wasn't too happy about the change at first (I never am. I HATE change), I love my life now.

Mary Anne's mom died when she was a baby so growing up, she just lived with her dad. But when SHE was thirteen (everything happened to us at thirteen, it seems), her dad remarried this really nice lady, Sharon Schafer. So Mary Anne gained a step-mom, a step-sister, and a step-brother. What was really cool is that her new sister was also her other best friend, Dawn! Now Dawn and her younger brother Jeff live in California with their Dad, but they come and visit during holidays and over the summer.

Back then we had a great business going, the Baby-Sitter's Club (all my idea). But with high school, the club just... disintegrated. We never had a formal breaking up or anything. We all just got too busy. As much as I still wish it was together, I have to face reality. I just don't have time for three or four baby-sitting jobs a week.

"Kristy? Are you even listening to me?"

"What?"

Mary Anne laughed. "I guess that answered my question. I was asking if you wanted to come over to my house tonight. Sort of a good-bye to summer thing. Dad's going to order pizza and Sharon is making a real pie, with sugar. I'll be supervising just in case she tries to put Tigger in the filling."

"Sure!" I knew that Mary Anne had been feeling pretty lonely since Dawn and Jeff went back for California a couple of days ago. Mary Anne is really sensitive.

"Great. How about coming over around seven?"

"No problem." We said good-bye and I drove back home.

"Do you have my change?" Mom asked before even saying hello.

I dropped my bags on the kitchen table. "How was your shopping trip, Kristy? Oh, fine thanks. Did you get everything you needed? Of course I did, WalMart is fantastic. I'm glad to hear it, Kristy."

She laughed. "I forgot it was you. Sometimes I still think I'm sending Sam out with two hundred dollars and him coming back with a notebook and a sack of McDonald's and telling me he spent it all."

I handed mom her money. "I did get everything, too." I held up one of the sweaters. "Cute, right?"

Mom smiled. "I love it. That's where I wondered. I'm still a little concerned for your fashion sense, but you grew into it."

I used to live in jeans and t-shirts, and I still do, but somewhere along the way I gained a bit of chic-ness. My jeans don't have holes in them (unless I'm doing painting projects with kids or playing softball), and I prefer a cool sweater to an old turtleneck. I even sometimes wear makeup, but just for special occasions. You still won't see me in a dress or high-heels, or anything, but I own nice slacks and hip boots.

I dragged my stuff upstairs. School was starting in three days, and now I was set. I hadn't needed to buy a backpack. When Dawn came back, she had bought Mary Anne and I a hundred percent recycled, waterproof rubber backpacks. I don't know if she thought we were going kayaking or something, but it came in handy. I didn't even mind that it smelled like a tire.

I organized my backpack with everything I'd bought and started contemplating an outfit for Thursday (why do school always have to start on a weird day? Why make us sit through two days just to hit us with a weekend? Why not just start on Monday?). Even now I'm not THAT aware of what I'm wearing, but this was the first day of school.

I'm not a huge fan of school or anything, but I make good grades (A's, with a B or two). For some reason, though, I just love the first day back at school. Summer can be so disorganized. Things fall into place during the school year. I love it when things are organized.

I put together my new jeans with a red sleeveless shirt I already owned. The sweaters were cute, but they just weren't going to come in handy until, at the earliest, the end of September.

It was quarter to seven then, so I drove over the Mary Anne's.

"Just in time!" she said, flinging open the door. "The pizza just got here, and the pie will be done in about fifteen minutes. Come on in!"

Mary Anne used to be really shy, but over the past couple of years, she's really come out of her shell.

I went inside. Their house is a renovated barn, which is really cool. However, the reason they renovated the barn is because their house burned down three years ago. They lost all their possessions, but now things are looking up for them again.

"So what do you think is going to happen this year?" I asked, taking a slice of steaming pizza. Mr. Spier and Sharon (for some reason I can call her Sharon, but Mary Anne's dad will always be Mr. Spier. I guess because I've known him longer) had gone into the other room with plates of food, leaving Mary Anne and I in the kitchen.

"The usual. Cokie Mason will whore around, Alan Gray will fling mashed potatoes at the ceiling, and Pete Black will try to ask me out on a date." Mary Anne paused. "But we do have junior-senior prom this year. At a hotel and everything. So that's exciting."

"Why don't you just go out with Pete?" I asked. "You've always said he's not a bad guy."

"I know, but I don't. My gut feeling is not to go out with him. So I don't."

I gave her a sideways look. "You haven't really dated anyone since Logan three years ago. What will going out on one date with Pete Black do? Kill you?"

"Probably not," Mary Anne said. "Besides, why am I taking dating advice from you? I haven't seen the boys lining up outside your door, Kristy."

"Only because they all think I'm gay," I said. "You drive a pick-up truck, wear jeans everyday of the year, and suddenly you're the world's biggest dyke."

Mary Anne frowned. "Either way, you could put yourself out there."

"I don't want to be out there. Putting myself out there leads to weird guys I don't know. At least you know Pete. I'd much rather just be friends with a guy. If something happens then it happens. That's the way it's been with both of the guys I've ever dated. And it's cool."

"I guess."

We ate the pizza, and the pie (which was fantastic and completely Tigger free), and watched a little TV and I went home.

All this talk of school was getting me excited. School meant action, and I love action. No one ever said Kristy Thomas sat still for too long!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two 

I got up at six-thirty on the Thursday. I took a nice long shower. One nice thing about my house right now is that my older brothers who would usually be trying to get into the bathroom at the same time as me are away at college, and my younger siblings are still too young to want showers before school. Baths or showers at night suit them just fine.

I got dressed in the outfit I had planned, and put on my new sneakers. I pulled my hair back in its usual ponytail and even put on a little mascara. I put some cover-up on the zit on my chin and I was ready to go. I ran downstairs for some breakfast.

Watson was making waffles while Mom filled orange juice glasses.

"You look nice, honey," she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks," I replied. I grabbed a waffle and ate it pretty quick. I promised Abby I'd take her, and her sister Anna to school. I was going to be playing chauffeur to them until October, when they would turn sixteen. Their grandmother already promised to buy them a car.

I went outside to find Abby and Anna waiting at the end of my driveway. I waved for them to get into the truck.

"Ready for the first day of school?" Abby asked as she squeezed in next to me. Anna sat on her other side.

"Yup!" I had tossed my backpack in the storage part of the truck. Abby and Anna had done the same, but Anna had her violin case sitting on her lap.

We drove to school and almost instantly went our separate ways. They both had lockers indoors.

Last year SHS renovated a wing of the school to accommodate more students. In that, a bunch of lockers got put outside under a canopy by the parking lot, and lucky me, I got stuck with one. Not only do I have to go out into the blazing heat right now to get to my locker, I'll be stuck in a foot of snow this winter. Then, to top it off, this area seems to be where the smokers of SHS like to gather so I'm walking through a haze of smoke.

I put my things away and started to leave when one of the smokers looked at me.

"Thomas?"

I peered at him, it was hard to see through the haze, but when I recognized him, my jaw dropped. "Cary Retlin?"

Cary Retlin. Where do I begin? All through eighth grade, I battled him. I sort of hated him, but really were sort of play-hated each other. Sometime during the summer between eighth grade and ninth, Cary did something, I have no idea what, to get himself sent to military school, or so I'd heard. From the look of it, he was back.

He looked different than the last time I saw him. Older, for one, but that was obvious. His hair was really short, I guess still growing out from a buzz cut, and he had a cigarette hanging from between his first two fingers. His eyes were the same. The same snarky, sarcastic Cary Retlin eyes.

He took a drag off his cigarette and tossed it out into the parking lot. "Hey, Thomas. How's it going?"

I stared at him. "Okay... I didn't know you were back."

"I just back a week ago. Most people are surprised." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Want to compare schedules and see if we have any classes together?"

Most people would take this as a sign of friendliness, but I knew he was just being sarcastic. I crossed my arms over my chest. "No, thanks.Maybe one of your, er, new friends would like to." I walked away and went inside where it was cooler.

"Thomas, wait up."

Cary followed me. I didn't know what his problem was. You'd think military school would teach him how not to be annoying. For a moment, I thought I might give him a chance, but he was already acting like the same old Cary I knew from eighth grade.

I turned. "What?"

"Hey, even if we don't have classes together, eat lunch with me, will you?"

"I'll be eating lunch with Mary Anne," I said.

He shrugged. "She can sit with us. I don't mind."

"I'm saying that I don't want to eat lunch with you," I said.

"I've been gone for two years, Thomas. Don't you think you can give me a chance? Or are you still holding a grudge from eighth grade? Move on, would you?"

The bell rang and I stared at Cary for a minute. I frowned. "I'll think about it."

And I did. My homeroom was study hall. Which was nice because I'd be able to finish up any homework I hadn't done the night before. But since I didn't have any homework, and I didn't really know anyone in the class, I sat around thinking about Cary.

I thought about the way he asked me to move on. Moving on involved change. And I hated change more than anything else (except for maybe snobs, squirrels, and tardiness). What in the world could Cary do for me to move on from some eight grade grudge? Not much. I liked holding grudges.

I looked around the room. I knew a few of these people. There was Erica Blumberg sitting with Claudia Kishi (whom I used to be very good friends with). There was Curtis Shaller, a sophomore, and one of the few black students at SHS. Sitting over in a corner with a group of weird hippie kids who span all the grades, including Ashley Wyeth and Robert Brewster, was Cheviot Wagner who was probably the weirdest girl in the entire school. It's probably her parents fault for naming her Cheviot.

I felt sort of alone. A long time ago, I had a bunch of friends. Now? I had Mary Anne, Abby, and Anna. I was also friends with Shannon Kilbourne, but she goes to Stoneybrook Day School and is so advanced that she skipped freshman year and is now a senior.

That was pretty much it. How had I gone to having the greatest group of friends in the world to having nearly none at all? Not that the friends I have aren't great, they are, but it was only three years ago. How did things go so wrong?

In eighth grade, I was president of the world. Now, in eleventh grade, I was practically alone. Claudia and Stacey's popularity went to their heads, Mallory was at boarding school, and Jessi lived in New York with some family that boards ballet students. What had happened?

I went to first period and did what I could to listen to my history professor drone on about World War II (which we studied last year. Did he not realize that this is the junior class?). Second period, biology, was a little bit better. I decided not to tell Dawn that we'd be dissecting frogs. Third period was Spanish, which I actually enjoy, and there's rumors of a junior-senior trip to Spain. Fourth period was gym, my favorite, and then I was freshly showered for lunch.

I bought my lunch and I looked around for Mary Anne. I saw her sitting at a table with... Cary. What was she doing sitting there with him? I stomped over there and sat down across from them.

"What's going on?"

"Cary asked if he could have lunch with us," Mary Anne said coolly.

"And you said yes?" I asked, in a bit of high pitched squeak.

"Yes, I did." Mary Anne took a bite of wobbly jell-o that was probably older than both of us.

"Wasn't that nice of Mary Anne?" Cary asked.

I didn't answer. I started in on my rancid pizzaburger. I swallowed it, grimacing slightly. "So, Cary, how was military school?"

"Kristy," Mary Anne said in a warning tone.

But Cary didn't seem to mind. He raised an eyebrow. "Who said I was at military school?"

I shrugged. "Everyone."

"Everyone was wrong. I never stepped foot inside military school. You'd have to do something illegal for them to resort to that."

"So where were you?" I asked rudely.

He rubbed a hand across his short hair. "I was at the psych ward."

"If you're not going to be serious-"

"I am being serious. I spent the last two years at the New York Psych Hospital. My days were spent watching Wheel of Fortune, -keeping my vocab up, you know- playing checkers with a guy who thought he was Ben Franklin, and got sponge baths from nurse Double D's. And you can't beat electroshock therapy."

"You're making this up," I said.

"No, Thomas, for once I'm being serious," Cary said. I looked in his eyes and I believed him. But I wasn't even trusting my gut feeling.

"If you weren't at any school, why are you in eleventh grade?"

"Tested in. Apparently being crazy can also make you a genius."

"You're not crazy," Mary Anne said.

"No, I'm not. My dad thought so and sent me away. Thought they'd shock my problems away. Thought maybe I just needed a vacation from all the stress. My stress, you know, that's why we moved to Stoneybrook in the first place. If I could get away from all my stress in Oak Hills, maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to start a new life in Stoneybrook. Now, my parents didn't want to move again on account of my stressful habits, so when they popped up again over the summer after eighth grade they sent me to nuthouse, thinking if I could get away from the stress, I'd be cured forever."

I knew he wanted me to ask, and I wasn't going to be baited like that. However, I couldn't help myself. "What habits?"

Cary smiled. "Do you really want to know, Thomas?"

I stared at his patronizing smile. "No, actually, I don't."

"Good. Because I wasn't going to tell you." Cary ate some limp salad and after a moment he said, "I'll tell you if you go out with me."

I almost fell out of my chair. "WHAT?" I looked from him to Mary Anne (who looked confused, but not shocked), and back.

"Go out with me," he repeated.

"On a date?"

"Not on a date. Just out. And I'll tell you. Because it's a crazy story... no pun intended."

I didn't think that Cary's pun was very funny, and I still didn't believe that he had been in a psychiatric hospital for two years. Even so, suddenly, I really wanted to know.

"Sure," I said. "Tomorrow night?"

"I have an appointment on Friday. Saturday night, then?"

I nodded. "Sounds good."

And that's how I got myself roped into a night with Cary Retlin.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Mary Anne, Abby and I looked at my closet Saturday night. The door was open and we were all sitting on my bed just staring into it.

"I don't own night out clothes," I said. I REFUSED to used the word "date." This wasn't a date. I was just going out with Cary.

"Well, what are you doing with him?" Abby asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" I asked. "He just asked me, I don't know what's happening. He just asked me, and I have no idea what he means by anything."

"Um, I meant what are you going out to do? Movies?"

"Oh," I said, embarrassed. "Um, no. We're going out to eat and then I don't know what."

Mary Anne jumped off my bed and pulled out a pile of clothes. She thrusts a pair of black slacks and a red fitted t-shirt (that I never wear) at me. "Put this on. It's perfect."

I got dressed and I had to admit, Mary Anne was right. For a casual night out, it was nice. I put on my boots and brushed my hair. Mary Anne helped me with eyeliner.

"I look like a freak. Especially for a complete and total non-date," I said.

"But it's not a reason to look like a slob," Abby said.

"Bit rich coming from you," I said. Abby was wearing grass stained soccer shorts, a t-shirt with the collar and sleeves cut out with a black sports bra on underneath.

"I'm not going on a... night out with Cary Retlin," she said, grinning. "I mean, date-date-date-date-date-date-date!"

"Shut up!" I said. I stood up and faced my friends.

"How do I look?"

"Hot," Abby said.

Mary Anne gave me two thumbs-up. "Are you meeting him or is he picking you up?"

"I'm picking him up. He doesn't have a driver's license. I guess from all his time at the psych ward, he didn't have time to take a driver's test," I said, a bit of a disbelief in my voice.

"Do you think he's telling the truth?" Abby asked.

"Who knows," Mary Anne replied. "Cary wasn't ever known for his honesty, but he seemed pretty earnest when he was telling us about it. I mean, why would he tell us that if it wasn't true?"

"You are so naive," I said. "That stuff is so far-fetched, only Cary Retlin could come up with it. It's the biggest line of crap I've ever heard."

"Then why are you going out with him to find out more?" Abby asked.

I pouted for a moment and shrugged. "I don't know. I need to get going."

Abby walked across the street and I took Mary Anne home. It was out of my way to Cary's house, but it wasn't so far that I was complaining. I pulled into the driveway and wondered if I should just blow the horn, or get out and introduce myself to his parents. I know some about them, but I've never actually met them. I turned off the truck and went up the sidewalk.

I rang the doorbell.

The door opened by, whom I'd guess, was Mr. Retlin. He took one look at me and smiled. "Are you here for Cary?"

I nodded. "Yes, I'm Kristy Thomas."

"Fantastic! Come inside!"

I walked into the house. Mr. Retlin led me into the kitchen and offered me food and something to drink. I declined both, politely. Mr. Retlin was really nice. A little too nice. Sort of creepy nice.

Cary came downstairs. I'd seen Cary about five times since we ran into each other at my lockers on the first day of school. I STILL wasn't used to his super short hair. It made me double glance at him every time.

He looked nice, though. He was in a white shirt and a black suit jacket with matching pants. He wasn't wearing a tie or anything, so it didn't totally look like he was going to a funeral. In fact, he made the whole thing look very casual. I felt just right in my clothes.

"Hey, Kristy."

"Hi," I said.

Mr. Retlin, who was hovering like a creepy bee, smiled. "No, Cary, you and your date have a good time. Be home by... whenever you're ready to come home."

"I have to be home at midnight," I said, "so Cary'll be home before then."

For some reason, Mr. Retlin looked a little pained about this. He leaned over and hissed something in Cary's ear and shoved something in his jacket pocket. Cary closed his eyes, and dropped his head, his face flushing slightly.

"See ya, Dad," He muttered, ushering me out of the house.

"God, he is so fucking annoying! He's not a dad, he's a freak of nature," Cary said as he walked out to my truck.

"What was that about?" I couldn't help but ask. We climbed into the truck and I started it.

Cary reached into his pocket and tossed a strip of condoms onto my dashboard. "He told me to have fun and be careful. He's such an asshole. Like I'd have sex with you."

I stared at the condoms. I couldn't imagine Mom or Watson saying something like that to me. I knew that Mr. Retlin creeped me out, but that was just icing on the cake.

I shuddered. "Well, I'm glad to know that sex is just as far from your mind as it is from mine."

"Sex isn't the furthest thing from my mind," Cary said, the old snark back in his voice. "Just not sex with you."

"Even better," I said dryly, pulling away from Cary's house. "Where to, then?"

Cary gave me an address and I drove to it, a little wary. It was out past my old house (passing Mary Anne's which irked me this time), on the outskirts of Stoneybrook, almost to the beach. The address was a house. It didn't look like there was a party or anything going on, just a house with a couple lights on inside.

"What is this?" I asked.

"This is Cheviot Wagner's house," Cary said.

"How do you even know Cheviot? She went to Kelsey."

"I know enough about Cheviot to know that tonight they're having poetry readings. I overheard them talking about it and asked if I could come."

"Why?"

"We're going to express a point," he said, smiling. Come on, let's go in."

So we went inside. Cary was right, Cheviot was hosting a poetry reading. Her parents weren't home, but she had the company of her friends, Ashley, Robert, Tamarya Reed, and a few kids that I could tell by sight, but didn't know their names. They were all smoking pot, which freaked me out almost right away, but they seemed calm, and so did Cary. He declined offers for them along with me, but he did light up a regular cigarette (I wouldn't let him smoke in my car).

"We're going to start the reading now," Cheviot said. She's actually really pretty, with long, thick brown hair and huge blue eyes. She always wears paisley prints that clash with each other horribly.

Cary and I sat down on a couch next to each other.

Cheviot stood and pulled out a sheet of looseleaf paper. She cleared her throat and read:

Darkness consume me   
Take me under your wing   
I lose myself in your glory   
Don't forget me

I gave myself to your call   
I heed to your culling song   
My blood ran cold in your presence   
My blood ran red beneath your razor blade kisses

I couldn't help it. I laughed out loud. Were these people serious?

Cheviot glared at me and continued reading, but if I tried to listen anymore, I didn't think I could keep a straight face.

"This is the saddest thing I've ever witnessed," I whispered to Cary between my giggles. "We better go because they kill me with their razor blade kiss-" I couldn't complete my thought, I was laughing so hard. Cary had to help me up and out to my car.

I cracked up, throwing myself over the steering wheel. I looked at Cary, tears streaming down my face. "I thought they were weird hippie kids. Look at the way the dress and the pot. What the hell was that poem? That was the funniest thing I've ever seen!"

Cary was grinning, but he wasn't laughing the way I was. "I have a question."

"Shoot," I said, wiping away the tears.

"Do you know what the word cheviot means?"

"No," I replied.

"A cheviot is a kind of sheep. And that is what Cheviot Wagner is. She's a sheep. She's a pot smoking hippie by day and a bad metaphor for cutting poet by night. She's what she is, and it's just like you said. It's sad."

"Okay, expressing a point. What's the point, Retlin?"

"Cheviot is a sheep. She's what she needs to be when she needs to be it."

"How do you know all that?" I asked, admittedly amazed. "This is the first time you've ever gone to school with her. You've known her for two days."

"I'm very observant. Now, you ready for some food?"

"Yes," I said right away. Cary gave me another address and this was even further out, and it was actually right down the road from the beach. It was this quiet little Oriental restaurant. There were only a few other people there.

"Do I smell like pot?" I asked as we walked toward the door.

Cary rested his head against my shoulder and took a whiff. "A little, but no one will notice."

"My mom will."

"Well, worry about it later."

We sat down and ordered food.

"Okay, Cary, I've played your game. Tell me. What really happened for the past two years? Where were you? Really?"

"I hate to break it to you, Thomas, but I was telling the truth. Look." Cary reached into his pocket and handed me a piece of plastic.

I looked at it. It was a hospital bracelet. I looked at and then up at Cary, unimpressed. "You could have printed this off your computer."

"I'm not allowed on the computer," Cary said.

"Stressful?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

I shook my head. "Let's go into an alternate reality for a moment here and say that I believe you. What were you there for?"

"Mental instability. What do you think I was there for?"

"Mental instable, how?" I pressed without answering him.

Cary shrugged. "I don't know. I took my dad's gun and I shot the heads off of some squirrels. That was just an expression of my anger, though. The crazy stuff, boy, that didn't start until I tried to have sex with the washing machine."

I laughed. "You made that up."

"Nope. It seemed like a great idea the time." He was smiling.

"So you murdered squirrels and you screwed a washing machine. That doesn't say mental hospital to me, Retlin."

"You wouldn't believe the impact the squirrels had. But I'm totally squirrel sober now. And no sex with inanimate objects." Cary paused. "Usually."

I made a face. "Gross."

"Oh come on, Thomas, you're telling me you haven't gotten it on with a big 'ol dildo?" He took a casual sip of water.

"I can say with total confidence that I have not," I said.

"Pity. You're missing out. Especially since you have a vagina."

All of a sudden, food wasn't appetizing. This was NOT a subject I wanted to talk about with Cary. "Can we, uh, say, change the subject?"

He grinned, obviously enjoying my discomfort, but he nodded. "Anyway, long story short, I'm in a 7-11 telling the guy at the counter to sell me the shirt I was wearing at the time. When he wouldn't do it, since I already owned it, I starting throwing bags of Doritos at his head, screaming a stream of words I'd never repeat in front of you. He calls the cops, even though, to this day I can't figure out how he got so injured by flying chips. I spend forty-eight hours in the Stoneybrook jail, and it's straight to New York for mental rehab."

"That was it?" I said.

"Pretty much. I mean, there's all the things that lead up to the breakdown, but is that important? Not really."

"It's not?"

"I can deal with having a nervous breakdown in the middle of a 7-11. But I've spent two years trying to forget that summer."


	4. Chapter 4

"So?" 

"I didn't find out anything," I said, not really wanting to explain Cary and washing machine sex. It was the the short answer. "He brought me a hospital bracelet as to prove something, but I know he could have printed it off the computer. Which then he told me he wasn't allowed on the computer. What kind of parents don't let their sixteen year old on the computer?"

"Ones with kids who were in a psych hospital," Anna said.

"I guess. Either way, Cary may be weird, but... I don't know. He's sort addicting. I can't put my finger on it, you guys. There's some about Cary that he didn't have before. He's still the same guy, but... I can't figure it out."

"You like him!" Abby said. "You dirty dog like him!"

"Dirty dog?"

"It's in the same league as a double-dog dare," Anna clarified.

"Ah." I nodded. "I don't, though. Like Cary. I could never in a million years like Cary Retlin. I mean, who falls for ex-psych patient anyway?"

"Not that you believe he's a psych patient," Abby said.

"Right," I said. "Not that I believe that."

"So where are you meeting him today?" Anna asked.

"Who said I was meeting him somewhere?" I looked over at them and saw the incredulous looks they were both giving me. I don't normally see Abby and Anna as twins, and much more as their own people, but at that moment, they had not only identical faces, but identical expressions of disbelief.

I sighed. "At my locker."

"Let us know how it goes then," Anna said.

"I will," I said, pulling into he SMS parking lot. The only nice thing about my outdoor locker was that it was right by the parking lot. I exchanged things from my backpack to the locker and the other way around. I looked over my shoulder for Cary and realized that Abby and Anna were still standing there.

"Don't you have places to be?" I asked.

They both laughed, but they looked kind of sheepish. "I'll have lunch with you," Abby said. "Unless, of course, you and Cary are having a lunch date."

"Ha, ha," I said. They went inside and I turned back to my locker.

I killed some time organizing the few things in my locker and looked at my watch. The bell was going to ring any minute. I wondered if maybe I was supposed to meet Cary at HIS locker. I went inside. I knew that Cary's locker was on the ground floor, and, luckily, was on the way to homeroom.

Cary wasn't at his locker. Reasonably pissed, I started to storm my way to homeroom. I stopped dead in my tracks at a loud sound from a janitor's closet. It sounded like a cry of pain.

I was half tempted to keep going on and mind my own business. But since when have I minded my own business? After this, I think I'll make a point to try.

I flung open the door and there was Cary Retlin. He was kneeled on the ground in front of Rick Chow whose pants were around his ankles.

"OH MY GOD!" I slammed the door closed and backed away. The bell rang, but I couldn't move. I was completely transfixed at that spot.

After about ten seconds, the door opened again. Rick was panicked. "I'm not gay, Kristy. Don't tell anyone what you saw. It was just a one time thing. I'm not a fag."

"Fine," I said in a weird hollow voice.

Rick ran away, but I couldn't see anything. I was shocked.

Cary stepped out of the closet. Literally and figuratively. He smiled at me. I wanted to smash his face in.

"What the hell was that?" I asked. In the back of my mind, I thought about homeroom. It was study hall, who was going to notice?

"You know that stressful bad habit?" Cary said. "That's it."

"Rick Chow?"

"No, not just Rick Chow."

"I don't understand."

"That's why we moved here in the first place," he said. "Imagine thirteen year old Cary Retlin, already a freak, already getting notes from school, and then getting busted by his Dad when he was experimenting with a guy from the baseball team under the covers of his bed at four in the afternoon."

"Can I not?"

Cary paused, but didn't reply to me. "When we moved here, the most conservative town my dad could find, I did what I could to keep him happy. I busied myself with torturing you. Which often didn't keep my dad as happy as he wanted, but it was better than the alternative, I guess. School let out, and I met some guys, and did some drugs, which is why having sex with the washing machine seemed like a good idea-" He paused again, giving me time to laugh, I think, but I didn't.

"Well, between the drugs and the squirrels, and the sucking cock, they figured it was enough to admit me to a hospital or military school or something. Hospital took me in. Damn squirrels. It's weird how what they think will save you is actually what kills you." His eyes got a strange sort of dead look to them. "My parents didn't think they could handle me, so they put me in such capable hands. It wasn't.

"However, it was better than having my dad hovering around trying to "fix" me. I wasn't in lock down or anything. I was probably more free there than I ever had been. In a world where you can't be yourself, a mental hospital is like a break from reality. Everyone is exactly who they want to be, whether it makes them crazy or not. I could be some weird cocksucker drug addict and no one cared."

I stared at him. I could hardly stand his bluntness. All of sudden, it made sense. Why Mr. Retlin was so strangely friendly. Why he gave Cary the condoms. He wanted Cary to have sex with me so he'd be able to "stay" straight.

"So you're... gay?" I asked.

"Not really. I do who I do. I like who I like. Most of the guys, though, like Chow there, I just do it for the money."

"Money?"

Cary nodded. "Most of them pay me. Most of them aren't even gay. Chow is, not matter what he wants people to think. Some of them are even straight guys who just want a suck. Or whatever they can afford."

"Ew," I said under my breath.

He raised his eyebrows and sort of shrugged. "It's not bad."

"Yeah, you wouldn't think so," I said, feeling like myself for the first time.

Cary smiled, I guess feeling my ease too. "You ready to ready to go to homeroom?"

"Nah. I missed this much, and it's just study hall."

"I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette. Want to come with me?"

"Sure."

We walked outside to where my locker is. Cary smoked a cigarette as he said he was going to. I leaned against my locker and watched him.

What was it about Cary Retlin that I found completely fascinating? Even when I was thirteen, I knew that there was something about him that I found interesting. I sometimes felt like a scientist studying the behaviors of Cary Retlin. This new development in my research was one I hadn't expected. For some reason, I wasn't as freaked out as I expected to be.

For crying out loud, I just saw Cary Retlin getting busy with Rick Chow in the janitor's closet.

"What's on your mind, Thomas?"

"Nothing."

"That's for sure."

"Ha, ha," I said. It was nice to know that Cary was still Cary. "It's just... not weird. Like I always knew."

"That I was a man whore?"

I paused and in a slightly surprised tone, I said, "Yeah."

"Couldn't put one past you, Kristy Thomas, teenage detective." Cary inhaled some more of his cigarette. "You know, the psych ward gave me more bad habits than good ones. Smoking, prostitution, bank fraud."

"Bank fraud?"

"I thought it would make the rest of it sound better. Either way, the smoking is the only remnant left of the drugs. I'm clean now."

"Good," I said.

He waved the red pack at me. "I would have sold my soul for these suckers when I was there. Thus is how I got into the business."

"The busi- oh. Right." I was seriously disturbed at how honest Cary was being with me. But then again, I just learned one of his secrets. I guess he figured I might as well know them all. I tugged at the collar of my t-shirt.

"Sorry, I didn't ask," Cary said, sounding only about half sarcastic. "How are you?"

"Disturbed," I said honestly. It was only fair.

"I know. Me too."

"So all of this is... I mean, you know your secrets are safe," I said.

"They won't stay secrets for long. Chow isn't telling anyone, but the word will get around."

He was right. Secrets don't stay secrets for long at SHS.

"Cary, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"How could they do that? How could they really think it was the best thing for you? Could there have been like... counseling or something in town?"

"I asked myself that a million times." He gave an involuntary shudder. "But you met my dad. He's an all or nothing guy. I couldn't just go out with you, I had to have sex with you. I couldn't just recover, I had to go away to whitewashed Hell. I can't wait until I'm eighteen and I can leave."

"College?" I asked.

"Probably not. That would mean asking him for something. I've been dreaming of going to Seattle or California or something and get a job and never have to talk to my Dad again. By then my brothers will be old enough so I don't have to go through my parents to see them."

I felt so awkward. How could Cary be so flippant about these things? This was his life. It was like he was telling me the plot of a book. I felt really old. That's not something I'm not used to.


	5. Chapter 5

"Where's Cary?" 

"Huh?" I looked up from my lunch that I hadn't been eating (who can eat rubber cement and ear wax?). Abby sat down next to me, holding a sacked lunch.

"Where's Cary? I thought you'd be sitting with him."

"Oh, no. He had somewhere to be over lunch." I looked around and saw Rick sitting with a bunch of guys a few tables over. I wonder who else at SHS had "meetings" with Cary.

Abby dumped her lunch on the table and began sorting it. "I overheard Cheviot Wagner saying that you and Cary crashed her party this weekend. Why didn't you mention that one?"

"I forgot that I hadn't," I said. "We didn't really crash. It wasn't crashing until I started laughing at Cheviot's poem. Believe me, it was horrible."

"You're so tactful, Kristy," Abby said.

"Have you seen Mary Anne today?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Just in English. She's..." Abby scanned the cafeteria. "She's sitting with Pete Black."

My eyes widened. "Really?" I stood up and stared in the direction Abby was. Abby grabbed my arm and pulled me back into my seat.

"Kristy, don't stare! You'll make Mary Anne nervous if she sees you and you know it."

"What if knowing all the details about my non-love life makes me nervous?" I asked, knowing full and well that Abby would not believe me, but find it terribly amusing. "It's possible that people knowing the details of nights out makes me horribly nervous."

As predicted, Abby laughed. She got a little bit more of a serious expression on her face. "I ran into Claudia today."

I felt my shoulders stiffen. "What did she have to say?"

"Not much. She asked about you. She said you weren't in homeroom today."

"What does Claudia care?" I said. I took a big bite of my lunch and regretted it. I tried to swallow it, but it was way too chewy, like glue. I spat it out.

"Kristy, ewww!" Abby exclaimed. She handed me a napkin.

"Sorry," I muttered. I washed the flavor out of my mouth with a Coke.

"Anyway, I got the impression that Claudia felt bad about all the bad blood. She said that she's not even really friends with Stacey anymore."

"Huh," I said.

Abby was quiet for a moment. "So where were you?"

"Where?"

"During homeroom."

"Oh. Hanging out with Cary."

She raised her eyebrows. "You skipped class to hang out with Cary?"

"Well... I believe him. About the whole psych hospital thing," I said. I thought about trying another bite of my food, but it seemed like too much work, so I fiddled with my fork.

"What brought on the change?"

I gave a brief overview of what happened, leaving out the fact that it was Rick Chow he was with in the closet. Abby didn't ask who he was with, which was good because I wasn't going to lie to her.

"So Cary's gay?" Abby asked in a whisper. I didn't have to tell her to not tell anyone. She already figured it out.

"I don't... think so. He said he just likes who he likes, but... can you do that?"

"I guess. It's America, we can do what we want."

"Well, except prostitution, but he does that."

Abby shrugged.

I shrugged too.

She gave me half of her sandwich and we ate lunch.

After school I went out to my truck. Abby had her first soccer practice of the season and Anna was going home with a friend, so I had the car to myself. I didn't have a lot of homework, so I wasn't sure what I was going to do for the afternoon.

"Want to give me a lift?"

I turned and saw Cary coming toward me. I smirked. "No more appointments?"

"Not until this evening," he said. He tossed his backpack next to mine in the bed of the truck. "So are you giving me a ride or not?"

"Yeah, sure," I said. I opened the door and got inside. "Who all are you... er, meeting?"

"A gentleman never tells," Cary said. He slid into the truck. "During the day it's SHS guys. I don't have time to leave the school. This evening I'm meeting a guy from Stoneybrook Community College. I'll be branching out to Stamford once I'm in the system for a while."

"I have to know," I said. "How do they find you? You didn't put an ad in the newspaper."

He laughed. "No, not even close. I had to find out where to go. There's a guy who... let's say specializes in setting up... escorts."

"So, he's a pimp," I said. We pulled out of the SHS parking lot.

"No."

"Sounds like a pimp."

"He's not a pimp."

"Well, you're a..."

Cary grimaced. "Don't say it, Thomas. Don't say it."

"You're a hooker." I was grinning.

"I'm not a hooker."

"Let me see. Men pay you in exchange for sexual favors... you know, funny enough, that sounds like a hooker to me."

Cary sighed. "I'm an escort."

"Isn't it the same thing?"

"No... well, kind of. Escort sounds nicer."

"So you're a hooker."

"Yes, are you happy? I'm a hooker."

"Yes, thank you."

"Oh, don't take me home. Can I just... go home with you?"

A sharp retort was on the end of my tongue, but there was something in Cary's voice that made me stop. He sounded desperate.

"Okay," I heard myself reply.

I turned and started toward my house. We got there and both of us grabbed our backpacks. We walked into the house talking about homework.

"Want a snack?" I asked "Since you didn't eat lunch."

"Sure," Cary said.

I made us sandwiches and became curious of the quiet.

"It's not usually this calm around here," I said. "In fact... I think we're the only ones here."

Cary pulled the crusts off his bread. "So, Thomas, what have you been doing with your time since eighth grade? Still doing the baby-sitting?"

"In my spare time," I said. "The BSC broke up during freshman year. But I sit for my brothers and sisters all the time. And sometimes others."

He nodded. "My parents don't trust me with my brothers. But they never did, even before all this shit came up."

"Don't use that kind of language in my house."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay. Anyway, the past couple of years, so much has sort of fallen apart. The club, my friends..." I stopped. I know that all day Cary had been telling me so many of his secrets, but now I was ashamed to tell him about mine.

"People change," Cary said.

"Yeah... but I still have Mary Anne and Abby. And I've gotten a lot closer to Anna, you know, Abby's sister."

"And I have... you, I guess."

I looked up, startled. "What?"

He shrugged. "I've met a bunch of people through my job, but are they my friends? Or even close to friends? Not at all. And once word gets around, rumors fly... I really will be exiled. I never had a lot of friends before."

"Weren't you friends with like Alan Gray?"

"I guess."

I frowned. "When do you have to go?"

"Eight-thirty."

"I'll drive you."

Cary nodded. "Thanks. Hey, um... Thomas?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you ever think... you know, if we hadn't spent so much time being enemies we could have actually been friends?"

I sighed. "Probably."

"We're friends now, right?"

"Maybe? I don't know." I didn't know how to answer that. "I mean, we're being pretty open and honest here. It's kind of weird, I'll admit."

"I'm not so big on mind games anymore these days," Cary said, shrugging.

"It's refreshing."

"So what do you say? Friends?" He stuck out his hand.

I nodded and shook is hand. "Friends."

I heard the front door open and the house was suddenly filled with it's usual level of noise. I could hear Mom and Karen arguing (Karen is so annoyingly moody these day. Mom says she's premenstrual. At nine!), Emily Michelle was crying, and Andrew was whining. David Michael slumped silently into the kitchen.

"What's going on?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Mom and Karen can't agree on anything."

"So it's normal. What's wrong with Emily?"

"She wet her pants."

"Oh," I said. Emily Michelle may have been adopted, but she's a fast learner. But she has accidents a lot, and at five, it's really embarrassing for her. The doctor thinks her bladder isn't developing as fast as it should, but it'll catch up. Until then, it's something we have to deal with.

I looked at Cary. "Hang on, I'm going to go help with the chaos."

He nodded.

I took Emily upstairs, cleaned her up, and helped her into clean clothes. I went back downstairs and made Emily, Andrew, and David Michael a snack. Mom and Karen were still in a shouting match and didn't even notice me.

"Is this normal?" Cary asked when I sat back down.

"Pretty much," I replied.

"Is this your boyfriend?" Andrew asked loudly. Loudly enough to stop Mom and Karen in mid shout. The entire room went silent.

Cary didn't move his head, but looked at me from out of the corners of his eyes. It was a rather panicked expression that may have made me want to laugh if this situation wasn't so embarrassing.

"Um," I said, "no. Everyone this is Cary."

Mom smiled (rather forced and ragged looking, post Karen argument), "It's nice to meet you, Cary. I'm Elizabeth."

"You too, Mrs... um..." Cary looked from Mom to me and around the table.

"Brewer," she supplied. "But just call me Elizabeth."

"Right." He nodded. I had the feeling that he would never call her by her first name.

Karen put her hands on her hips and looked at Cary. "Kristy wouldn't have a boyfriend anyway, not when she dresses like a dyke."

"Karen!" I exclaimed. "Where - What -"

She smirked at me. I wanted to drop to her level and scream out of the stress of dealing with her, but I was above that, and I wasn't going to lose my cool in front of Mom and Cary. Besides, Karen's just going through a phase. I hope it ends soon.

Instead, I grabbed Cary by the wrist and pulled him out of his seat. "We're going upstairs, and I'll leave the door open, but you don't have to worry about anything happening because I'm such a huge dyke!" I dragged him out of the room and up the stairs without looking back. I could hear him laughing, though.

"I'm sorry," I said as we went into my room. I closed the door, no matter what I said. "Karen is..."

"Are you really going to make an excuse for that?" Cary asked. He dropped onto my bed without asking if he could. But then again, I don't know what I would said if he had asked.

"I guess not." I sat next to him, not feeling at all uncomfortable that there was a boy sitting on my bed. It was Cary Retlin who gave blowjobs for a living. How threatening could he be?

"I knew there was a reason I picked you to be my friend," he said.

"Picked me? I thought I was a last resort."

"Oh yeah. Lucky me."

Then Cary did something really weird. Like, weirder than everything we had been through in the past few days. He hugged me. And not just a shoulder squeeze. He put both arms around me and held me.

I had no idea how to react.

Now, hugging Cary Retlin wasn't something I sat around thinking about, but if someone had asked me to describe what it would be like, this wouldn't be it. It was warm and full of some emotion I couldn't identify. Cary smelled good, musky and dark, like a forest.

These thoughts obviously meant that I was going insane.

"Uh, Cary?" I said.

He pulled away, fully letting go of me. "Yeah?"

Looking into his face, I couldn't put together words. "Nothing."


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you sure this is safe?" 

"Safe?"

I shrugged. "This is a pretty shoddy area of town."

"There aren't shoddy areas of Stoneybrook," Cary said. "This is perfectly fine."

"Are you sure? I mean, have you met this guy? Do you know anything about him?" We were sitting in my truck outside a rundown looking building. There were a few dim lights on inside and rusty cars sitting outside. It looked hardly friendly, let alone sanitary or safe. We were, technically, still in Stoneybrook, but it was on the outskirts of town, in an area I'd never been before.

"I know he likes to have to cock sucked," Cary replied.

"Cary, I'm being serious. This guy could..."

"What? Rape me? He's paying me. I'd just charge him extra for it."

I shot him an exasperated look. "I'm just saying that I have a bad feeling about this. And I generally follow my gut feeling. I don't think it's a good idea."

"I have a cell phone. If things get bad, I can just call 911."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

"What do you want?" he asked, sounding a little angry. "You want to come in and watch?"

"Not really? Maybe I could like... stand guard or something. If things go badly."

Cary exhaled through his nose, obviously not liking this situation. I didn't really like it either, but for some reason, I didn't want to be away from him. Not because I liked him or anything, but just out of my bad feeling.

"Fine," he said. "Just come in, don't say a word, stand outside the door, don't talk to anyone, even if they talk to you, okay?"

"Okay," I said. I parked the truck (made sure to lock it) and followed Cary inside.

The building was just as shoddy on the inside. It was pretty empty, except for a few guys sitting around drinking out of paper bags. They eyed Cary and me with contempt.

"Who's the broad?" one of them asked.

Cary didn't look at them, so I looked away. He grabbed my hand then, though. We walked into what was probably once a kitchen. I could see a sink that was brown and an ancient looking refrigerator. There were two huge men standing there, one was blonde, the other had black hair.

"Where's Jody?" Cary asked.

"What did you bring a girl with you for, Retlin?" the blonde giant asked.

"My bodyguard," he replied with ease.

Both men laughed (it's not my fault I'm short!), but they accepted the answer. The blonde one actually smiled.

"Jody's in room three right now. Your client is..." he flipped through a clipboard. "He's in room five. You know the routine."

Cary led me up a set of stairs. "Is Jody your... boss?" I asked.

He nodded. "Remember what I said? No talking. Not to anyone."

"Right." I hated listening to him, but I had the feeling I wouldn't want to talk to anyone. Who knew that Stoneybrook of all places had this kind of underground? I never would have expected it. I would have laughed at anyone if they told me.

He opened a door and I looked inside. It was dark except for the evening light coming from the tops of the curtains.

"Is the girl part of your act?" I couldn't see where the voice came from, but it was deep.

"She's staying out here," Cary said. He let go of me and stepped inside.

"Bring her in," the voice said. "I like it when they watch."

Cary looked at me, as if to ask. After being in the building, I didn't like the idea of standing out in the hallway by myself, but I didn't know if I wanted to be in there either. I nodded, thinking I could close my eyes or turn away if it got bad.

I went into the dark room and Cary closed the door, but made a point of not locking it. He moved to the middle of room, while I stayed by the door. The figure I saw get up from the bed was probably twice the size of Cary. He handed Cary something, which Cary forked over to me.

I could feel a wad of bills in my hand. I stuffed them in my pocket.

They spoke in low voices, and I could see the silhouette of Cary taking off his pants.

I looked at the ground for a few minutes. I couldn't bear to look up and watch what was happening. When I finally looked up, I couldn't see anything, but I could hear someone moaning. After another minute, the deep voice said, "Swallow it."

I felt a sick lurch in my stomach, knowing what had happened.

"Anything else?" Cary asked, his voice sounding tired.

"Bring me the girl."

"She's not in this," he said. "She watched, that's it."

"I couldn't feel her eyes!" I heard the squeak of bed springs and then I felt a clumsy hand around my arm. I was jerked across the room and thrown onto the bed.

"Don't touch her!" Cary shouted. I could see him grab the guy's arm and pull him, but being so much smaller, his attempt was futile. The guy punched him.

The door open and the room was filled with light. The two large men from downstairs grabbed the guy and knocked him out.

"Bodyguard, huh?" the black haired one asked. He helped me up, and I realized that I had tears running down my face.

"Cary, are you okay?" I asked, crouching down next to him. His eyes were closed and the blonde man was taking his pulse.

Cary's eyes opened. "Peachy."

The blonde man and I helped Cary to his feet. I realized then that Cary was still naked from the waist down and I blushed and looked away.

He dressed and the four of us went downstairs to the kitchen.

"A bad feeling, huh?" Cary said. "Did you think that the bad feeling was from you coming along and making matters worse? Do you even realize what could have happened there, Kristy? Do you? You're lucky they got there in time, or it could have been so much worse."

"Did you think that maybe if I hadn't been there it would have been worse?" I asked.

The blonde man gave me a very "I'm changing the subject now" smile. He cleared his throat loudly. "Kristy, is it? I'm Wayne. That's Nick."

"Hi," I said, feeling a little shy.

"And I'm Jody."

I turned, not sure what I was expecting. I wasn't expecting a man dressed as a woman, complete with makeup. His, er, package was clearly outlined through his lycra skirt. His voice was higher than a regular man's, but it was still throaty.

"Cary," he said, "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking," Cary said, looking at the ceiling.

Jody lit a cigarette. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

"I wasn't thinking," he repeated, this time looking Jody in the eye. "She drove me here and... it won't happen again."

Jody's eyes went from Cary to me. "Not bad, honey. I guess you're here to show me what a real woman looks like... a little small, decent rack, pretty face."

"No," Cary said. "Don't even think about it."

"Aww, Cary, is this your little girlfriend? Doesn't she mind that you're a-"

"No she doesn't, and no she's not. She's my friend."

"Hmmm... interesting." Jody pulled a card out from inside his bra and handed it to me. "If you ever need fast cash, honey, call me. We could use some actual women around here. It's such a sausage-fest."

I took the card, but by the look on Cary's face, I probably shouldn't have. I stuck it in my pocket without looking at it.

"If she can't handle a little poke, then don't bring her along. If she can, then you two could be a happy duo," Jody said. "Never, ever again, bring along someone who isn't going to do something, you got that Cary?"

Cary nodded. "You have my word."

"Good, because you suck like a dustbuster and you look like a model. I can't lose you this soon." He gave Cary a kiss on the cheek. "What else do you have lined up?"

"Nothing."

"It'll change. Your clientale will grow. Well, not if you keep having instances like this. I'll put your name out, darling. Don't worry. Go home, do your homework, do your girlfriend, I don't care. I'll have you a job by Thursday, okay?"

"Okay." Cary took my hand and we walked out to the truck.

"Cary, I-"

"Thomas, don't even say it." He put his face in his hands.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with anger. I hit him. "Cary Retlin, why the hell did you swallow it? That guy could have had fifteen million STD's and you could have just caught them all! What the hell were you thinking?"

He looked at me, rubbing his arm where I struck him. "I didn't. I swallowed my own. He was wearing a condom, but I wasn't while I was masturbating. All over my hands, I licked it, I swallowed it."

"Oh," I said.

"Do you see now why I didn't want you to come in? It's not just what happened in the room, it's Jody trying to get you a job. It's me having to explain this to you."

"Cary, how did you meet these people? You didn't meet them a week ago when you got into town."

He scratched his neck, looking suddenly uncomfortable. Only Cary Retlin would just start to look uncomfortable at that moment after all that happened in the last hour. "It's a funny story," he said.

"Uh huh."

"I spent my summer bumming around New York City. I was released in May and my parents didn't want me around my brothers all summer without school to occupy me. So I spent it with a second cousin or something in the city who didn't give a rat's ass what I did. I met an associate of Jody's there and... one thing led to another."

"Why didn't you just tell me that?" I asked.

"I don't know. The same reason I didn't want you to come. The... I was ashamed. It's one thing to do in a fucking mental hospital for cigarettes and another to think it's the only way I'd ever earn enough money to leave. That it would be the only thing I'd ever be good at."

"That's crap," I said. "Cary, you're the only guy who ever outsmarted me. On a lot of occasions at thirteen. What in the world made you think that being a... escort or whatever the hell you want to call it would be all you'd ever do?"

He looked in my direction, but didn't meet my eye. "I'd always been the weird kid, the black sheep. All I'd ever heard was that I better 'normal up' or I'd amount to nothing. Well, normal wasn't appealing, and look where it landed me. They were all right. Being weirdly smart doesn't do you any good in the real world of conformity."

"Maybe."

"Can we just go somewhere else? Can I like... can we go back to your house? I don't want to go home."

I nodded into the darkness, and drove back to my house. The crazy house was at a quiet moment, everyone watching TV in the den.

"Is that you, Kristy?" Mom called.

"Yeah, I'm back," I said. "I've got homework, then I'll probably go to bed."

"Okay, honey."

I felt a pang of guilt. Trust can be a curse.

Cary and I went upstairs. He stopped in the hall. "Can I take a shower? I just-"

"Go ahead," I said, waving my hand at his explanations. "Right in there."

I went into my room and waited for him. I couldn't believe everything I had just witnessed. I had wrapped my mind around the fact that Cary was a prostitute and somehow that seemed believable, but to see it happening, it was like my life had suddenly been thrown over the edge.

"Don't think about it too much. It's too hard."

I looked up and Cary was standing in my doorway. He was wearing his jeans, but his shirt was wadded up in his hand. You could see his ribs clearly through his skin, and his pants drooped around his hips. I looked away, my eyes settling on my digital clock, and I was surprised to discover I'd been sitting there for over ten minutes.

"Come in," I said. "Close the door, and lock it."

"Risky," he said, smirking, but he did as I asked. He sat down next to me. "Can we forget that tonight ever happened?"

"No, but it's okay." I felt myself stiffen. Cary on my bed after everything was hard enough, but here was shirtless, slightly damp Cary, and even though I, of course, felt nothing more than a leftover eighth grade grudge, I couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable.

"It's not." He scratched the palm of his hand. "I shoulda had a cigarette before I came in. I'm guessing I won't be allowed to have one now?"

"Nope." I dug through my pocket and handed Cary his money, along with Jody's card.

"Thanks... I should probably, you know, leave. Unless I could stay."

"No, you can't," I said. Then I thought about it and Mom would question why I was leaving again, and was that any more difficult that smuggling Cary out in the morning? It was a madhouse in the mornings. "I guess... maybe you could stay."

Do you know how scary it is to see all of your common sense go flying out the window?

Twenty minutes later, Cary and I fell asleep together on my bed.


	7. Chapter 7

Smuggling Cary out of the house (with an extra pack of Pop-Tarts for him) was the easy part. Explaining why Cary, who lives on the other side of town, was getting a ride with us to school was the hard part.

"Kristy, would you like to tell us what's happening?" Anna asked, her hands folded primly over her violin case.

We were on our way to school, the Stevenson's in the front with me, as usual, and Cary was sitting in the bed of the truck with our backpacks. Abby and Anna had said pleasant, though reasonably confused, hellos to him, he replied and jumped in the back without another word.

"What? Cary's just... catching a ride."

"Uh uh," Abby said, "he walked over to your house, five miles or so, this morning, just to get a ride to school with you? If we were believing that, I'd have to ask why he didn't just walk to school, since it's closer."

I didn't reply.

"Did Cary spend the night?" Anna asked, being straight to the point, which normally I like, but right now it made me annoyed and feel a little sick.

"Yeah, okay, he did."

"In a guest room?"

"No."

"In your room," Abby said, as a statement, not a question.

"Yes," I replied.

"On the floor?" Anna asked.

"No, he slept in my bed. With me. Are you happy?"

Abby's jaw dropped and Anna smiled smugly.

"I can't believe it," Abby said. "Kristy, did you guys.. have sex?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "It was completely innocent. We were doing homework together, it was late, and... you know. He spent the night."

"I'm guessing your parents had no idea," Anna said.

I scratched my chin. "No, not really. They sort of thought I took Cary home."

"I see."

"Don't tell anyone, guys. Really."

Abby smirked. "You think we'd tell?"

"You have a bigger mouth than I do," I accused.

"Maybe, but I can keep a secret."

This was true, so I didn't press the subject anymore. Besides, we'd gotten to school. Abby and Anna left pretty quick after Cary handed them their backpacks. He jumped out of the truck and landed next to me.

"I'll bet that was a fun trip," he said, giving me the old Cary Retlin smirk.

"A blast. A fiesta. The greatest drive to school ever," I said, rubbing my temples. "Can we wait until after they have their own car to try that again?"

"We're going to try that again?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I paused. "What? Oh, no. Forget I said that."

We stopped at my locker and I fumbled with the lock and finally opened it. I realized that I couldn't put any of my books away because I hadn't done any of my homework. I slammed the door shut and turned around. I sagged against the lockers and sighed.

"I'm a crappy friend," Cary said. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and selected one from the pack.

"Look, about last night-"

"I should have just gone home."

I blinked a couple of times. "That's not what I was going to say. I, uh, just wanted to... you know, say thanks. For, well, doing what you could to keep that guy off of me. I shouldn't have been there, so... maybe, uh, it was sort of like something... anyway..." I cleared my throat. "You had to have known you couldn't take that guy on."

Cary fiddled with his cigarette. "I really didn't think. But it's good that Wayne and Nick got there when they did. You got to see first hand what their job is."

"I should probably try to get to class early," I said. "Get a start on this homework that's due today."

"Right." He slipped the cigarette behind his ear, stepped forward, and kissed me.

It wasn't some movie kiss, with swelling music in the background. It was short, and felt rather normal, as if kissing someone was something I was supposed to be doing. However, it was surprising, and not even close to something that I was expecting. I could tell from the look on his face that he hadn't been planning to do it. But then again, sometimes I can't tell if the look on Cary's face is honest or not.

"Well, uh, bye then," I said, and walked into the school.

I went to homeroom, did all of my homework in one sitting, and once my brain was like mush, I went to the rest of school in a sort of haze. I'd slept plenty, I'd slept well, but I spent the rest of the day wondering why I let Cary sleep in my bed. It was taking over all my thoughts.

So school was a blur, I remember, vaugely, talking to Mary Anne, whom Abby had told about Cary spending the night, and trying to calm her down and insist that Cary and I did not, in fact, have sex, and if I were pregnant, I wouldn't know just yet because I didn't blush and giggle all through sex ed so I know this, but it doesn't matter because Cary and I didn't have sex or anything resembling it.

When I went out to the truck after school, I saw Cary sitting on the end of bed. Abby was standing next to him, talking to him, and they looked pretty chummy.

"Hey," said. "This car is for driving, not loitering."

"Sorry, madam Kristy," Abby said. "We're just waiting for you to drive us home."

"I'm driving you home too?" I asked, poking Cary's knee. If I didn't think about it, I wouldn't get a sick, nervous feeling in my stomach when I thought about Cary kissing me, and I couldn't let my guard down around Cary.

"I thought you might," he said.

"You can walk home."

"I twisted my ankle last night when I was trying to save someone's life."

"You did not."

"Sure, I did."

"You walked around school all day."

"No, actually I spent all day on my knees."

I stopped and burst out laughing. "I'll believe that. Get in." I turned to Abby. "Anna not coming?"

"Didn't you hear her this morning? Oh, I guess not. She's catching a ride with that friend of her's, Stephanie or Stanley, I really didn't catch the details." Abby shrugged. "They're in the orchestra too, cello, I think. But like I said, no details."

"What days do you have soccer practice?" I asked once we were on the road. Cary offered to sit in the middle and now I was painfully aware of Cary's thigh resting against mine. I kept my eyes strictly on the road.

"Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays," Abby said. "For right now. It'll bulk up as the season progresses."

"Right," I replied.

"But in a month you won't have to worry about knowing my schedule," she said cheerfully. "For I will then have a car and I'll just have to know Anna's schedule. Sharing the car is going to be the hard part."

"You share with me just fine."

"We don't share, you're our slave."

"Ha, ha, no."

"Wish I had the old BSC record book now," Abby said.

"And Mary Anne to keep track of it. I know how disorganized you are."

"Guilty as charged."

I drove to Cary's house and dropped him off and then Abby and I were alone in the car.

"What was that?" she asked.

"What?" I looked at her for an instant and then back to road.

"You and Cary. There was all this... tension."

"Tension?" I tried to keep my voice cool, but it a lot more high-pitched than I ever would have wanted it to be.

She rolled her eyes. "I thought I would have to roll down the window to breath it was so heavy in here."

"He didn't even say anything."

"He didn't have to!"

"Look, I don't like Cary, not like that. I don't care what anyone has to say on the subject! And the subject is closed!" I slammed my hand on the steering wheel on the last word, and even I didn't believe me.

I pulled into my driveway and Abby went to her house and I went into mine. Mom and the kids had beaten me home today, so I went in, grabbed food from the fridge and, without word, went upstairs and did my homework like the good kid I am. Or the good kid I was. I wasn't sure anymore if I was one, the other, or both anymore. I hadn't done anything wrong, but I'd seen things that were, for sure, wrong, and now how could I deal with them? Busy myself with homework? Or try and be a help to Cary in whatever way I could? Did that include kissing him? Was kissing him helping me or him? And in his "work," what was helping? What was making him worry? Was he worried?

Needless to say, I didn't do very well on getting my homework done. I mulled over the questions in my head and came to no conclusions. 


	8. Chapter 8

"Come home with me." 

I looked up from my lunch. I was sitting with Mary Anne and Anna, innocently making fun of my food while they turned green and tried to eat the edible food they brought from home. Cary had come up and ruined this normal moment in my life. He was doing that a lot lately.

"What?"

He sat down next to me. "I've been thinking about it. If you come home with me, pretend to be my girlfriend, it'll get my dad off my back, he won't suspect what I'm doing every other night when I'm out, and it'll actually make him happy."

"Why can't you just tell him I'm your girlfriend?"

Cary shook his head. "He won't believe me. He'll say I'm lying. But if you come home and tell him yourself, he won't have any reason to believe otherwise."

"Deception sounds like fun," Anna said with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, uhh..." Cary looked from Anna to me. "Do they know?"

"Most of it," I said. "Not your job, though chances are they'll be asking me about it the second you leave."

He nodded. "Well, then I'll just tell them. Ladies, I'm an escort. I get paid to go on dates with people and sometimes we'll trade favors and I get paid for that too."

"Oh," Anna said, nodding. "You're a hooker."

Cary threw up his hands, exasperated. "Why does everyone around here use that word?"

"We're small-town folk, Cary," I said, smiling. "We don't know your big city words."

"Shut up," he replied. "So, Kristy, will you do it? It's an hour of smile at my dad, I know he's a prick, but if you could just humor me and do this for me...?"

"So it's like a favor," I said. "And you'd owe me one."

"Yes," Cary said without hesitation. "I would, for sure, owe you one."

"Let me check my schedule." I turned to Anna. "Do you need a ride home? I know Abby has soccer and will be taking the late bus."

Anna shook her head. "I was planning on getting a ride with you, but I can get one from Stan if you have other plans."

"Okay, then..."

"Great," Cary said, slapping my shoulder. "Really, Thomas, it'll be worth your while."

After school, I was wondering if it really was worth my while when I remembered creepy Mr. Retlin thinking about Cary and me having sex and making a point to think about it. I guess now, though, he'd just assume that we were. And would think about it. It made me more sick than thinking about Cary kissing me.

I thought about Mary Anne going crazy at the idea of Cary being a prostitute and the possibility that I could have sex with him, which was not something I was planning to do in the future, fake girlfriend or not.

"Nervous?" Cary asked, smirking.

"No, what makes you ask that?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing. Maybe you should relax your grip before you break the steering wheel, though."

I looked down at my hands and my fingers and knuckles were white. I relaxed them. "No problem."

"It's not. All you have to do is go in, say yourself that you're my girlfriend, say a few glowing things about how much you love me, and then we'll disappear to my room for a while, you can read a book or do homework or something, and then you'll leave. And from this point on when my dad asks where I'm going, I can say 'Oh, out with Kristy.' And he'll say, 'Cary, why weren't you home until one in the morning?' and I'll say, 'I was out with Kristy, making love in the back of her truck.' And he'll say, 'Good for you son. Stickin' to the pussy.'"

I laughed. "He won't say that!"

"No, he won't, but he'll be thinking it."

I pulled into Cary driveway and we got out of the truck. He grabbed both our backpacks and looked at me.

"Ready?"

I nodded. He took my hand and we went inside.

"Anyone home?" Cary called into the house.

Mr. Retlin appeared out of the living room. "Cary, who's this? The girl from...?"

"The other night, yeah. Kristy, remember?"

"Right!" He grinned and extended a hand to me.

"Uh, sorry," I said. I held up my right hand that was currently clutching Cary's left one.

"Yes, yes, right. So you and Cary are..."

"Dating, yeah. Five glorious days so far." I smiled.

"Wonderful. I always hoped he'd meet a nice girl."

"Yeah, Dad, so Kristy and I are going upstairs to my room," Cary said. He pulled me up the stairs and into his room. He closed the door.

I looked around the room. I'd been in it once before, and it looked exactly the same. The same weird posters and skeleton lamp. My room looks basically like it does when I was thirteen, the bed is in the same place, chairs and tables, all in the same places, but I've moved posters. I've moved books. Everything in the room was reflected exactly to my memory.

"I haven't had a lot of time for redecorating," Cary said. "Remember, I've only been in Stoneybrook for two weeks."

"Right," I said, sitting down on his bed. "So now what?"

"Homework, I guess." He sat at his desk.

"Right, good idea." I picked up my backpack where Cary had set it. I pulled out my biology work and put it down. "Can I ask you something?"

Cary looked up. "Shoot."

"Your job. Do you like it?"

"It pays the bills."

I shook my head. "That's not what I asked. Do you like your job?"

"No, it's awkward and humiliating and demeaning. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It's not what I _wanted_ to hear."

Cary rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't like it. It's just what I do. When I was experimenting and all of that with all those guys years back, I just did it out of wanting to see what it was like. Then at the hospital, it became a way of life. A way of survival. Now... what else am I supposed to do? You know, I've been with probably thirty guys in whatever you could think of "with" qualifies and I've never been with a girl."

"Me either," I said.

He laughed. "Really, Thomas, are you?"

"Am I what?"

"A virgin."

"What do you think? Big, dykey Kristy anything but a virgin? Don't make me laugh, Retlin."

"But you're not..."

"Nope, totally straight." I fumbled with my pen. "I guess that makes one of us."

He smiled. "Yeah, say, Kristy, what did you think about that kiss yesterday?"

"I'd been trying not to."

"Was it that bad?"

"Not bad. Just... weird? Not weird. When it was happening it wasn't weird. When I was thinking about it later it was weird."

Cary nodded. "I get it. But not bad?"

"Not bad."

"What if I did it again?"

My stomach did a flip. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. "I'd probably-"

My words were cut off by Cary getting out of his seat, and leaning down and kissing me. This time it was much more like that movie kiss, just minus the music. I've kissed boys before and it was okay, this was... well, it was more than okay.

Cary pulled away and studied my face, waiting for a reaction.

"Uhhh," I said, finding that Cary, for one of the few times in my life, had left me speechless.

He realized it and started laughing. "That bad?"

"Not bad, not weird, just... whoa," I said.

"Whoa is good, I'll take whoa." He sat down next to me. "Did you ever wonder when you'd lose your virginity?"

"No, did you?"

"I was thirteen." He shrugged. "That's when you start to wonder about those things. I didn't have time to wonder, it just happened."

"Well," I said, "I never thought it would be in your bedroom."

He looked at me with that horrible cocky smirk and raised eyebrow. "Did you think that I was propositioning?"

"Weren't you?"

"A little bit, yeah. You know. Just to see what would happen."

"And?"

"Well, I'm less injured than I originally figured."

I hit his shoulder. "Feel better?"

"A little, yeah." Cary rubbed his arm. "Ow."

"It couldn't have hurt that bad," I said.

"Just my ego."

"Good. It could use it."

He made a face. "So, what do you say?"

"I'm not having sex with you," I said, very matter of fact. I was not, however, offended. I should have been. I was thinking about how I should have been. I should have left right then.

But I didn't.

"I wasn't asking that," Cary said. "Well, kind, of, but I was thinking that we should go out. Like really. And it wouldn't be a lie."

"Why do you want to do that?"

He shrugged. "It just seems like a good idea."

"No," I said, finally feeling offended. "I mean, what would it be? We date during the day, except lunch hour and during your "appointments"?" I actually used the little mid-air quote marks.

"Oh yeah." Cary's head dropped for a moment.

"I guess I couldn't convince you to quit."

He looked up and gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment. "No, not right now."

"You hate it."

"It's good money. Way better than anything I could be making bagging groceries."

"Look, Cary, you know me. I'm not going to date you or whatever as long as you're screwing guys every other night."

He nodded. "I understand."

"I can't be your girlfriend. I'd probably get jealous or something."

"I get it."

"However, I don't see any reason why we'd have to stop what we've got going on right now."

Cary kissed me again, and I could suddenly feel myself changing. The words coming out of my mouth weren't my words. They were someone else's words. They had to be. Kristy Thomas wouldn't say those things. Kristy wouldn't let herself be kissed by Cary Retlin.

I hate change.


	9. Chapter 9

I shivered in front of my locker. As I predicted, in December my locker ended up behind a giant snow drift. Since I knew it was coming, I was able to remove all the stuff from it before the snow. 

Now it was February and all I can do was think about spring. It had warmed up, and there wasn't anymore snow. We now had daily showers of freezing rain. I was accustomed to carrying around all of my books with me at all times.

I was reminded of Dawn who said that their middle school had a ton of lockers outdoors. I guess that's fine when the low of the winter is maybe fifty degrees. At twenty, it's a little bit different. I wanted to kill whomever it was that decided outdoor lockers were a good idea.

"Juuust for you."

I looked at the Styrofoam coffee cup being held out in front of me. I took it and turned around. "Thanks, Cary, but... I don't drink coffee."

"It's cocoa," he replied. "Afternoon chocolate pick-you-up."

"Uh-oh. Why are you being thoughtful?" I took a sip of the cocoa. It was delicious and warmed me up right away. I didn't ask how Cary got cocoa while I (and everyone else in the school) was in last period. He skipped class a lot, yet still made good grades. But then again, he tested into eleventh grade on an eighth grade education, so that has to count for something.

"No reason. Well, yeah, I have a reason. Uh, Jody wants to meet me tonight to go over some scheduling."

"So?"

"I want you to come with me."

I raised my eyebrows. "Why?"

Cary kicked the ground with his sneaker. His hair, that had finally grown back in, fell over his eyes. "She said something about new ideas. Which in Jody terms means, she's got crazy fucks lined up who want someone young and they want something weird. And I want to get your opinion."

"My opinion is that you don't do anything you're not comfortable doing," I said.

"Kristy, please. Come with me. She'll talk me into it. You know how she is."

"And you're not weak minded! You can resist the overwhelming powers of Jody."

"No, I can't. The last time I went to a "new ideas" meeting, I had a whip used on my ass. Do you remember that?"

"Oh yeah, but-"

He moved closer to me and put his arms around my waist. "So you'll come?"

I sighed. "All right. What time is it?"

"Seven."

"Do you need me to come pick you up?"

"If you would please."

"Do you need a ride home?"

"Nope, I've got to work. He wants "date" so he's picking me up."

I'll admit it. I felt a hit of jealousy. Cary and I weren't really dating. It was just hanging out. With kissing. And sex. Once. Or twice. But we weren't dating. As long as we weren't dating, I wasn't going to feel jealous. For one thing, Cary went out with me because he likes me, not because I was paying him.

But we never really went out on dates. Hence, we were not dating.

Cary kissed me good-bye and I went out to my truck. I sat there with the car on for a few minutes while I let it warm up. While I was waiting for the heat to kick on, there was a knock at the window.

I jumped. I turned, and it was Mary Anne. I motioned for her to get in the car.

She climbed in. "Kristy, we need to talk."

"So I guess you don't want a ride home?" Knowing Mary Anne as long as I have, I know her habits. So I knew what we were going to discuss: Cary.

"Yes, please. It's so cold out. Anyway, Kristy, I have to ask you something." She took a deep breath. "Are you and Cary having sex?"

My first instinct was to lie. But then I realized that I'm sixteen years old, and I've known Mary Anne that long, and in that time I've never lied to her. There was no reason to start now. Besides, even if I said no, she would worry about it anyway. I might as well ease her mind with the truth.

"Yes," I said. I pulled the truck out of the parking space.

"What? I mean, you are?" Mary Anne's jaw was dropped. "Kristy, how could you? I mean, you're only sixteen!"

"That's old these days, Mary Anne. For crying out loud, Cokie Mason-" I stopped. It was common knowledge that Cokie Mason lost her virginity in the girl's locker room the first day of freshman year to Logan. While Mary Anne is way over Logan, she still hates Cokie, and that's a touchy subject.

Mary Anne frowned at me. "Cokie Mason is never a good example."

"I know."

"I'm worried, Kristy. You've changed so much over the past few months. You got involved with Cary and he's a..."

"Prostitute," I supplied.

"Yeah... and you're having sex with him? Kristy! I just... I heard rumors and I didn't want to believe them. Is it, you know, safe?"

"Of course it is," I said, slightly exasperated. "Cary's really big on safe sex. And I would be if he wasn't. And he gets tested all the time, and he's clean. He had syphilis back in November, over Thanksgiving, but it's gone now, and we weren't having sex then. Believe me, Mary Anne, it's totally safe."

"I still, I just can't believe that after everything, you're dating Cary."

"Dating? I'm not dating him. Dating him would involve dates. But we don't do that. We're friends, we hang out, and that's it."

"And," Mary Anne said in this totally meaningful voice, "you have sex."

"Yes. Worse things have happened."

"What would your mother say?"

"My mother doesn't have to know. Besides, she loves Cary."

"Kristy, I'm worried about you."

If it was anyone else, I would have laughed, but it was Mary Anne. My best friend. I sighed. "Mary Anne, there isn't anything to worry about."

"You're changing so quickly and so suddenly," she said.

"I know. But even with the changing, which you know how much I hate change... it feels right. Like, it's okay or something."

"But it's not okay! Do you... do you love Cary?"

I didn't answer her right away. It was something I had been tossing around in my head. I knew what Mary Anne wanted to hear, but I simply told her the truth. "No, Mary Anne, I don't. I like him. We're friends. He's weird, and annoying, and sometimes I want to just strangle him. In fact, most of the time I want to strangle him. But then I would miss him."

"It sounds like you love him."

"I know, but that's the funny thing. I don't. I mean, I think I do, but not like that. Not in that sense." I sighed. "So, how are things going with Pete?"

She glared at me for changing the subject, but you can't get a better subject change than Mary Anne's romantic life. She loves to chat about what she and Pete have been doing. They've been dating since he took her to Homecoming.

"They're going well. We're not having sex or anything," her voice had a weird, snobby superiority that rubbed me the wrong way, "but it's going really great. I guess I have you to thank for it. I never would have... if you have hadn't pushed me to."

"I've been pushing you all our lives and you still did things in your own time," I said. "I don't think this is any different."

Mary Anne and I were silent for the rest of the drive home.

That evening, I picked Cary up at his house.

"How was your date?" I asked.

"A bad tipper," he replied.

I laughed. "Are we going to Jody's or to red light house?"

"Jody's."

I wrinkled my nose. As much as I hated the shoddy house on the edge of town, I hated Jody's even more. Really, I just hated Jody, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. At least at the red light house, Wayne and Nick could keep me company. I preferred that.

Despite all of that, I drove to Jody's apartment.

We arrived, and both got out of the truck. I looked at the building and shivered.

"Cold?" Cary asked. He put his arm around my shoulders. I wasn't, but I welcomed the gesture.

"Thanks."

Cary pushed the little button outside the front door. "Jody? It's Cary."

"Right, whatever. Come in."

Another thing I hate about Jody's apartment is the fact that she lives on the top floor and there's no elevator. By the time we reached her apartment, both of us had shed our coats and were in no fear of being cold.

"Get in here!" Jody called. The door was open, so we went in.

Mostly I hate Jody's apartment because I can't get away from her. But I also hate how it's decorated (black walls, red curtains, weird statues everywhere), and the way it smells, like decaying animal incense or something. Or worse, lunch at SHS.

"Sit," Jody said. She was sitting at her kitchen table. It was covered with junk, but she had cleared out sections for us to sit and not have to put our hands on her crap.

"Hi," Cary said pointedly. He pulled up a chair for me, since Jody had not expected me to come. She dislikes me about as much as I dislike her.

"Hi, whatever. Let's get down to business." She held up a sheet of paper. "The people on this list want your services. Some of them I've already confirmed you'll do it, based on your schedule. The regular Hoover act. But we should go over some of these before I confirm."

"Shoot," he replied.

"Okaaaay. This guy wanted someone young, he really wanted underage ass, but you're eighteen so it's the best I could get. Basically, he wants to be your bitch."

"He wants to be my bitch? Yeah, I'll do it."

"That's anal."

"I know."

"Okay." Jody scribbled something down next to the name.

Cary was a very sneaky guy. Though he tested into the eleventh grade, he told Jody and everyone in the business that he was eighteen, and the only reason he was still going to SHS was because he had to pick up where he left off, and he wanted his diploma. So he can lie about his age, get his big money, and still get his education.

"I know you're good for it. After the suck and fuck audition you gave me, I think I'd recommend you to anyone," Jody said. She always finds ways to remind me that she had Cary first. Casually she continued, "All right. This guy wants you to dress in a bra and panties and take it up the ass."

"Wait," Cary said, "what?"

"Lingerie. I'd do it myself, you know, but he wanted someone young. Not that I'm old or anything, but he really wanted a kid, but since I couldn't do that, you're the best I've got, baby."

Cary looked at me. "What do you think?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"I think... that it's weird. And I don't know if I want to take anal. It's not pleasant, it really hurts."

"That's what makes it good," Jody said.

"If you feel uncomfortable doing it, then don't," I said. I knew that wasn't going to hold in front of Jody, but I said it anyway.

"Awww, widdle Cary needs big, bad Kwisty to stick up for him?" Jody taunted. Cary's face turned red.

"I'll do it," he said.

It was all I could do to not hit him. It didn't matter if I was there. He always lets Jody tell him what to do. He hates it, and I hate it too because he never stops.

Jody and Cary went over the list. Cary agreed to most of them. But when he was asked to wear clown makeup, he refused. Jody did not mock him for it. In Cary's line, theatrics are at a minimum, but you still find them.He doesn't like them very much anyway.

"That's it then," Jody said. She scratched out a list on a sheet of paper and handed it to the Cary. "Your schedule for next week. Remember lube."

Cary scowled and we left without as much as a good-bye.

"I hate that stupid cunt," Cary said once we were back in the truck.

I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to ask him why he keeps going back, then. If he hates it all so much, why he signs up for more and more jobs. It always comes back to this. At this point, even I don't even try to start it again. So instead of wringing his neck, I started the truck and drive back to his house.

"Just say it," Cary snapped, after I pulled into his driveway.

"What?"

"Yell at me. Hit me. Go ahead. I earned it."

"I'm not going to yell," I said. "It's not worth it."

"You know I don't do it because I want to."

"Sure you do," I said evenly. "If you didn't, you'd just stop. You can stop doing it anytime you want, Cary. You don't need that money, do you? Do you, really?"

He let out a long sigh. "Can we not talk about it and just enjoy the rest of the evening?"

"I can't really... I don't know if I can..."

"What?" Cary said. "You want to, what, break up? Or whatever it is we've got going on here?

"I don't know, you gonna give me a bill?"

"Oh, god, Kristy, don't go there. Don't drop that low. I don't like it, and you've got to know better than that."

"Do I? It's not my fault you suck cock for a living."

"Well, I fuck you for free!"

I gaped at him. "I can't believe you just said that."

"What, Kristy? Are we suddenly dating? Should I hold your hand during lunch? Should we go out on dates? You want to go to Pizza Express and kiss over pepperoni and extra cheese?"

"Stop patronizing me," I snapped. "I just don't understand why you keep going back to a job you hate when you can be so much better."

"SO I CAN STOP COMING HOME TO A HOUSE I HATE!" Cary exploded. "If I keep raking it in like I am right now, I can get out of here the day I hit eighteen. The more money I make, the easier it's going to be."

I paused. "Then why didn't you just freaking say that?"

"Because it's stupid."

"Did you think I wouldn't understand?"

"You wouldn't."

I shook my head. "Maybe I would, Cary, if you'd just open up. You think you stopped playing mind games? You still are. You never stopped, Retlin. Everything we've done, everything that's gone on the last five months, it's just been one huge mind game."

Cary dropped his head against the headrest. He looked away from me as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Kristy. I've been so obsessed with leaving... sometimes I forget that there are things worth staying for."

"Do you really mean that, or is it a line of crap?"

He shook his head. "Whatever." He got out of the car and slammed the door.

I felt stung. Was I wrong about Cary? Was he being honest? Who could tell sometimes?

I drove back home.


	10. Chapter 10

I went inside the red light house. I hadn't seen Cary in two days, he hadn't been at school. Being after eight in the evening, I assumed he was here. I was tired of fighting, and was going to be big about this. That's something very hard for me to do. 

Going in, I was nearly comfortable there now. I went into the kitchen.

"Kristy!" Wayne greeted me with a smile. "It's good to see you. It's been a while."

I smiled. "It has. Keeping you busy here?"

"Not really."

"Good." I stood across from him and leaned against the wall. "Is Cary here?"

"Upstairs waiting for a client," Wayne replied.

"Is there time for me to go see him?"

"Yeah, go for it. Room five. Be quick, though, will you?"

"No problem." I flashed him a grin and went upstairs. I found room five and went in without knocking. What I found inside made me gasp, feel embarrassed, and giggle all at the same time.

Cary was sitting by the window smoking a cigarette wearing a purple lingerie set.

"Um, Cary?"

He jumped and stood up. "Kristy." He seemed to just realize what he was wearing and scrunched up his face, like if he could close his eyes tight enough, I wouldn't see him either. "Oh, man, I-"

"It's okay," I said, smiling a little. "I just wanted to stop by and say... you know, I'm sorry or something."

"Or something?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry for not trusting your sincerity. But-"

"I'm sorry too," he said. "For being an asshole. I sort of deserved a slap."

"Yeah, you did." I smirked. Then I stepped over to him and kissed his cheek. I rest my head on his bare shoulder for a moment. "I better go, or Wayne will kick my butt."

"No, he wouldn't. Wayne loves you." Cary paused and in a hoarse voice that I may have not heard if I hadn't been as close as I was, added, "But not as much as I do."

Shocked, I moved away from him. We stared at each other for a moment, and then we both laughed uncomfortably. I left.

I went back downstairs and sat on the counter in the kitchen with Wayne and Nick.

"Things okay?" Wayne asked, concerned. "With you and Cary?"

"They're okay now, I guess," I replied.

Cary's client came in and spoke with Wayne. He was older, about thirty, I'd guess. It was weird. We had a moment where we made eye contact. It was like he knew that Cary and I were connected. And then he smirked, this horrible, nasty, smirk. Nick saw it and grabbed my arm.

"I'm okay," I said in a low voice. As calm as I felt, I wanted to tear that guy apart. He didn't deserve Cary. And Cary certainly didn't deserve this.

"Talk to him tonight," Nick said. "Get it out then, okay? Jody will have your head if you fuck it up. You know it."

"I'm not afraid of Jody."

"Yeah, but I am."

I started laughing. "Stop it, Nick."

It was hard to imagine a guy who was three times bigger than myself being afraid of Jody. I knew that was his intent, so I went for it.

Twenty minutes later, I was getting antsy. "Should this really be taking this long?" Anytime I'd been there waiting for Cary, he had been done by now.

"This is a little different than the regular sort of work he does," Wayne said. He winked at me. "Don't worry, it's fine. He'll let us know if something is wrong."

That didn't ease my mind. I cracked my knuckles and Nick laughed at me.

Another ten minutes or so passed and finally Cary's client came down the stairs looking pleased with himself. He didn't look at us this time, and left without a word.

Usually, Cary would soon follow, but he was still upstairs.

"Let's go up," Nick said, looking at, not Wayne, but me. I nodded and jumped off the counter. We went upstairs and the door was half open. I pushed it open the rest of the way. "Cary?"

There wasn't a reply. I turned on a light and Cary, stark naked, was on his hands and knees on the floor. He wasn't moving at all.

"Cary?" I repeated.

"Go away," he hissed.

Nick gave me a push into the room. I took the hint and walked further in and knelt down next to Cary. "Hey."

He jerked his head away. "Don't look at me."

"Talk to me," I said. More like commanded.

"It was bad," he replied. "Real bad."

"Can you stand up?" I asked. I didn't want to be there another minute.

"Yeah," he croaked, but he didn't move. Finally, Nick and I both helped him up and into his jeans. I helped him into his winter coat and then gathered up the rest of his clothes.

He took a step and grimaced. "Oh, shit," he muttered.

After a few more of these and seeing that we were going nowhere, Nick scooped Cary up in his arms (Nick could bench press a truck and Cary is so skinny, it was probably like lifting a gallon of milk) and we went downstairs like that.

"Shit," Wayne said on seeing us. "Cary, if it was that bad, why didn't you get us?"

"Couldn't," was all Cary could make out.

"Let's him out to your car," Nick said. "You can take him home, Kristy."

I nodded.

Once we were on the road, driving at snail's pace due to the freezing rain, Cary finally told me what happened.

"That guy is a psycho. I know that's rich coming from me, but he wasn't willing to hear anything, not anything." Cary's hands shook as he lit a cigarette. Normally, I'd yell at him for it, but this time I let him get by.

"At first, when I was trying to talk to him about what we'd be doing, he was being all sweet like. He kept touching me, but just through the underwear. His hands were all over my dick, his filthy fucking hands. He shoved me down on the bed, he wasn't listening. He paid me, the money's in my pocket, then he... fuck it, he fucked me dry. Without a condom."

I slammed on the brakes (which wasn't much, since I was only going about fifteen miles an hour). "WHAT?"

"I know," he said looking at his hands. "He did it twice."

"Why didn't you do anything? Why didn't you get Wayne and Nick?"

"He had a fucking knife to my neck. That's not supposed to happen. Jody is supposed to make sure that doesn't fucking happen!"

"What about Wayne and Nick? Aren't they supposed to-"

"This is fucking Stoneybrook, Kristy. Wayne and Nick don't expect crackjobs like that to come in out of the city. It's Jody's job to know that these people aren't going to pull shit like this. Wayne Nick and emergency status only."

"But - but doesn't Jody have that information? Doesn't she keep like, records or something?"

"Yeah, but it's confidential. And Jody doesn't give a shit about any of us."

I hit the steering wheel with the flat of my hand. It hurt, and it actually brought me back to reality. "I'm taking you home."

Cary didn't argue. He was quiet the rest of the way home.

I helped him to the door once we were there. "Do you think you can get upstairs to your room?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I'll try."

I kissed him. "Do you want me to come over tomorrow?"

"Yeah, if you want to." He touched my face for a moment. His hands were freezing. I gave him his clothes and he went inside. I drove home.

I took a shower and started on my homework. Around midnight, when I probably should have been in bed, I was suddenly starving. I had skipped dinner, and now all I could think of was food.

I crept downstairs, trying not to wake up anyone. I made a huge sandwich. As I was trying to figure out how to eat it, there was a banging at the door. I jumped, dropping the sandwich on the floor, my mind filling with all the stories I'd heard about escaped mental patients with hooks for hands and what not, and that made me think of Cary, and I felt not so afraid.

I walked slowly to the door, picking up David Michael's baseball bat on my way. I flipped on the porch light and looked out the window. I dropped the bat and opened the door right away.

"Cary! What are you doing?" I said, louder than I should have. Luckily, the house is so huge, no one heard me.

I helped Cary into the house. He was soaked, and shivering.

"Oh, god," I muttered. I led him to the bathroom and instantly started pulling off his wet clothes. I dropped the lid of the toilet and had him sit. He winced when he did, but didn't move.

Once we were in the better light of the bathroom, I could see bruises on his face and all down his chest and arms.

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice shaking.

He looked up at me, and in that annoying sarcastic tone I hate, he said, "I'm having a bad night."

"What happened?"

"Dad found Jody's card," Cary said. "He figured out, not only was I still sucking cock, I was getting paid for it. He threatened sending me to jail, or sending me back to the hospital. He beat the shit out of me, Kristy." He started crying. Not just regular crying, he was sobbing. I did all I could do. I held him and tried to keep him warm. His skin was like ice.

"He said I was worthless and I wasn't his son, and I wasn't a man, and I wouldn't ever amount to anything," Cary said between sobs. "He called me a liar and a loser. He told me if I ever came back, he'd send me to jail. Or he'd kill me. The only reason he didn't do any of that is because Mom told him to let me go."

"Back?" I repeated.

He pointed a shaky finger to the knapsack in the corner. I hadn't noticed it. "I had enough time to pack a few things, then I was officially kicked out. Then I walked here."

"You WALKED? All that way? In this rain?"

He nodded. "I'm leaving, Kristy. You know all I said about going to California or something? I can't wait until I'm eighteen. I have to go now." He grabbed my forearm. "I want you to come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me. You're the only one who didn't judge me, or didn't make me feel... no, that's not it. You're the only one who ever _did_ make me feel."

"Cary, I can't just leave," I said. "I have a family. I've got responsibilities. I want to finish school, I can't just... I can't go."

"You can still finish school," he said. "I've thought about it. It's all I thought about on the way here. How we could make it work."

Looking into his bruised face, it was hard to resist. I played out the reactions of my friends and family in my mind. No one could ever understand why I even considered it. It was crazy.

"I don't have any money. Maybe forty bucks," I said.

"I've got seven grand," he said.

My jaw dropped. "W-what?"

"I told you I was saving up. That's why I took four or five jobs a week. I got paid twice as much when I was in New York. But I quit now, that's all over. I want to get a real job. Something you won't hate me for. That's more than enough money for us to go across the country and start out on. Kristy, please, come with me. I need you."

I paused. I was bold, but I wasn't rash. I had never been rash. I was rational. I'd never really been rash before. How was it that everything with Cary seemed so right?

This time, though, I didn't feel like my common sense was leaving me. I didn't feel like I was changing in some huge way. Though I was. I knew I was, but it wasn't so obvious.

I took his hand in mine. "I'll come with you."

We went upstairs to my room (a slow trip since Cary was still sore from everything he had been through). Cary packed for me while I wrote a letter to Mom and Watson.

It was long for as quickly as I wrote it. I put the letter in an envelope and wrote their names on the outside. I didn't bother sealing it. I set it on my desk and stood.

"Am I ready?" I asked.

"Are you?" Cary replied. He zipped up my duffle bag. "It's just shirts and pants and underwear. Oh, and a photo album. I thought you might want it."

"Thanks, and, yeah, that's all I need," I said. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I grabbed my cell phone and stuffed it in my pocket. It was off, but I knew I'd be calling soon.

I put on my coat and we left. We piled into the truck, and we were gone.

On the road now, I don't know what lie ahead for Cary and me. I can't say how I feel about uprooting myself even now. I may live to regret it, but I may live to wonder how I never did it earlier.

I hate change. But all I've done is change my life in the most radical way. I've dropped the only life I've ever known in favor of a new one for a guy I had to convince myself that I even liked.

And right now, I'm not regretting it.

* * *

_Dear Mom and Watson_, 

By the time you're reading this, you have probably already figured out that I'm gone. Don't worry, I wasn't kidnapped or anything. I'm leaving. I had to do it now. You see, I've been responsible all my life. I've done everything I was supposed to. I don't resent anyone for it, I wouldn't be doing what I am now if it wasn't for that. I've got a new responsibility now.

It may seem like I've lost it, but please believe me when I say that I'm feeling perfectly sane. Please don't send the police after me. Please don't try and contact me. I have my cell phone with me. I'll call you as soon as I know something concrete.

Doubtful that you'll respect my wishes, not because you don't love me, but because you do, I'm not going to give you any hint of where I'm going. And when I contact you, where I am. Honestly, at this moment, I don't know myself.

Things have gone horribly wrong for a friend, and I have to help him fix it. It's my job to make sure he makes it. I might be back soon. I might never be back, but I hope that's not what's going to happen, though.

I love you both so much. I couldn't have asked for better parents. Give my love to everyone (When did I start saying things like that? I guess this is pretty emotional). I promise, I'll be back. I promise to call when I get there. I'll call sooner. I love you.

-Kristy

P.S. Please show this letter to Mary Anne, Abby, and Anna. They deserve to know and deserve to know how much I love them as well. Thanks.


End file.
